


Douleur

by 73stargazer



Series: Alternate Reality [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1875222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/73stargazer/pseuds/73stargazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Synopsis: Alternate Reality. Takes place approximately 2374. Picard’s shuttle mysteriously disappears, leaving tragedy in its wake. </p><p>Rating: T</p>
            </blockquote>





	Douleur

Douleur

Synopsis: Alternate Reality. Takes place approximately 2374. Picard’s shuttle mysteriously disappears, leaving tragedy in its wake. 

Rating: T

 

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to CBS, its parents and affiliates. Just taking the characters out for a jaunt around the galaxy, I warrant they will be returned in the same condition I borrowed them. 

Part 1

Entering sickbay, Deanna observes Isabel Picard perched on the end of a bed in the intensive care area reading from a PADD to an elderly Andorian officer with a very pale blue complexion. Walking over to Beverly studying the sensor display, Deanna smiles lightly. “Hello, Doctor.”

Turning around at the sound of Deanna’s voice, Beverly smiles lightly, her right hand holding her tricorder coming to rest at her side. “Hi, Deanna. I didn’t even hear you. What can I do for you?”

“Nothing, thank you. I haven’t seen you today. I came to wish you a happy anniversary,” says Deanna cheerfully.

Relaxing, Beverly grins. “Thank you. It’s sweet you remembered. Nine years. Isn’t that crazy?” A tech hands Beverly a PADD and she nods appreciatively. “Thank you.”

“I can’t believe we’ve been on the Enterprise over a decade,” Deanna agrees. “Will you celebrate when the captain returns?”

“Uh, no,” replies Beverly distractedly, briefly re-reading the patient’s file on her PADD. “ We, uh, we tried to plan this nice quiet dinner before he left, but it didn’t turn out so nice and quiet.”

“Why’s that?” Deanna inquires conversationally as Beverly consults the sensors again. 

“Well, the night before he left neither of us were on duty. We got the kids to bed at a reasonable hour. We had a delicious meal, exquisite wine, it was lovely. But, then Belle had a nightmare right in the middle of our main course. I got her back to sleep, we tried to pick up where we left off. Then he got called to the Bridge and I went to bed alone.”

Frowning in sympathy, Deanna nods empathetically. If anyone can relate to this kind of occurrence, it is her. “I’m sorry. That’s awful.”

Shrugging, Beverly turns to her patient. “It doesn’t matter. J.P ended up with an upset stomach an hour later anyway. Commander, I’m going to my office. I leave you in the capable hands of my intern, Dr. Picard. Be sure to be as difficult for her as possible, very demanding.” Beverly jokes with the Andorian officer lying limply in the bed. 

The small red-haired child giggles, setting her PADD down on the bed. “Mom!”

The Andorian officer smiles good-naturedly. “Doctor, your eight year-old assistant here is the only thing keeping me from losing my mind during my imprisonment.”

“Recovery,” Beverly corrects the Andorian gently. 

“Whatever you want to call it, she’s made it tolerable,” the elderly officer supplies graciously. “Although, I’m convinced she’s cheating at cards. No one’s luck is that good.”

Isabel giggles and Beverly hands her the tricorder. “You can have her until seven o’clock, providing she completes her homework and eats dinner.”

“I will,” the girl assures her mother, easily accepting the tricorder. 

“Come get me if the Commander needs anything,” Beverly orders her daughter seriously. 

“I will,” Isabel repeats, happy to be given a charge. 

“I’ll come check on you shortly,” Beverly assures the patient before she turns to head to the office. 

“She’s adorable. The patients love her. She’s the spitting image of you,” Deanna remarks as they enter Beverly’s office. 

With a smile and small sigh, Beverly sits on the sofa. “Oh, I don’t know. Some days I think she’s inherited her father’s stubborn streak.” 

“You have a bit of that stubbornness yourself,” Deanna points out with a light laugh, slowly transferring to the sofa.

Laughing in self-deprecation, Beverly nods. “ Yeah, you’re probably right. The funny thing is, the boys aren’t really like that. Wesley’s not overly stubborn, and J.P is so easy-going, so eager to please.”

“Well, you’re lucky. Mine are far too hard-headed and independent for their own good. I’m hoping this one’s a little milder,” admits Deanna teasingly, laying a hand on her protruding belly. 

Beverly bolts upwards. “Oh, Deanna. Did I miss an appointment? The schedule…”

Shaking her head, Deanna puts her hand on Beverly’s forearm. “No, no. I didn’t have an appointment. I just came to wish you a happy anniversary. Thought maybe you’d want some company while he’s away.”

“Thank you,” Beverly responds graciously. “But, you know if you need anything you don’t need to make an appointment.”

“Thanks. I didn’t need to see you. Just wanted to pop in,” Deanna assures her. “Actually, it’s almost time to get the kids from mok’bara anyway, so I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Will you send J.P down here when they’re finished?” Beverly asks. 

“Of course,” Deanna replies easily.

“And then get off your feet,” Beverly requests, looking at her friend warningly. 

Rolling her eyes, Deanna pushes herself of the sofa. “Doctor…”

Beverly rises to her feet, steadying Deanna with a look of part concern, part annoyance on her face. “Don’t ‘Doctor’ me. You should be on bed rest.”

Lips tightening into a frown, Deanna folds her arms across her chest. “I’m fine, Beverly.”

“I’ll decide if you’re fine,” retorts Beverly with a peaked brow. “Deanna, you have to be careful. After the problems you had with Kestra…”

Cutting her off, Deanna raises a hand. “I know, I know. But honestly, I feel fine. And we’re in the home stretch now. Just have to hang in a little longer.”

Beverly nods reluctantly. “I just don’t need anything to happen to you or the baby.”

“Don’t worry. I get enough badgering from Will. I promise I’ll take it easy. I won’t do anything to put her in jeopardy,” says Deanna reassuringly. 

Beverly moves toward the door to her office. “What makes you think it’s a girl? I thought you were going to wait to find out?”

Beaming, Deanna follows Beverly. “I can’t explain it, but I have an empathic link with her. I can just feel it, and I have absolutely no doubt of it.”

Walking back towards the intensive care area, Beverly shakes her head in disbelief. “That’s remarkable. Have you told Will?”

Shaking her head, Deanna laughs lightly. “No. And, it’s not easy to keep it from him. I want him to be surprised, though. Besides, I like that this is something special I share with her. My kids are Will’s. One hundred percent they are their father’s progeny. Billy worships his father, and Kestra is her father’s baby girl. I guess it’s selfish, but I have a feeling this one will be mine, and I’m thrilled.”

Glancing at her daughter reading to the ill Andorian officer, Beverly swells with pride. She is grateful to have three wonderful children. “I understand what you mean. They may resemble Will. But ,give yourself some credit, Deanna. Those kids would be lost without you. You’re the most amazing mother I know. You have the patience of a saint.”

Following Beverly over to the Andorian’s bed, Deanna laughs in self-deprecation. “You have to have an abundance of patience to be married to Will Riker.”

“That’s true,” agrees Beverly with humour as she turns to the patient. “Well, Commander, you sick of Belle yet?”

Raising a brow at Isabel, the officer’s lips curl. “She skipped the part with the ferocious beast.”

Frowning, Isabel reddens. “It’s scary. I don’t like that part. It’s only good when Daddy acts it out with the voices and the hero saves everyone. Then it’s not so scary. ”

Smiling in understanding, Beverly puts a hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

“I’m going to get the kids. I’ll bring J.P here before we go to our quarters,” Deanna offers.

Turning, Beverly shakes her head. “Oh, no. Go home and rest. Just ask Jean-Paul to come straight here. He knows his way.”

Inhaling sharply, Deanna’s face is troubled. “I’ll ask Worf to bring him down.”

Refraining from sighing, Beverly reminds herself that although they are both raising children of the same age on the ship, she and Deanna are not always the same when it comes to parenting. Beverly had raised a son on her own before she had re-married and produced two more children. She is the Chief Medical Officer and her husband is the captain of the ship with two small children. She does not have the luxury to over-protect her children. Although her husband is more strict in disciplining the children than she is, Beverly tends to provide her younger son and only daughter with freedom and autonomy, wanting them to develop their own character and independence. She recognizes that the security of the ship will protect them from any grave danger and that along the way they may mistakes but learn in the process. By contrast, her husband sets high expectations for their five year-old son and eight year-old daughter that sometimes concerns her. Sometimes she believes he expects them to be perfect and behave like the rational adults he is accustom to managing. She often has to remind him that their young children are not officers, they are children who will occasionally act out and they need to have patience with them. Besides, she always points out, they have incredible children who are kind, well-behaved, intelligent and genuinely good-hearted. Whenever she reminds him of that, Jean-Luc smiles and asks what more they could ask for. Will and Deanna’s eight year-old boy and five year-old girl are also well-disciplined with good characters for their ages. But, by contrast to her, Deanna has a tendency to over-protect and coddle her children. Perhaps the overbearing nature can be attributed to Deanna’s own formidable mother, Lwaxanna Troi, Beverly cannot be certain. What she does know, however, is that Beverly has been through this before. She raised Wesley essentially single-handedly, although she had Jean-Luc and the guidance of some of her friends on the Enterprise while Wesley was a teenager. Beverly was a single mother with a demanding career raising a very energetic and intelligent boy. She could not excessively fuss over everything. When they came on the Enterprise, Wesley soaked everything up like a sponge. He wanted to learn and experience everything. As a mother, Beverly had been terrified of the potential dangers he would be exposed to as an acting ensign. Originally when he took the helm, she would be on pins and needles. Each time he would accompany an away team, Beverly’s stomach would churn, silently wondering if he would be injured, if he would even return in one piece. The tortured memory of her late husband’s death haunted her, reminding her that her son was choosing the same path. Would he have the same destiny as his father? She eventually taught herself to let go, to give Wesley the freedom to come into his own, choose his own destiny. Now, Wesley is proving to be a fine young officer and the fear of his service that used to paralyze her rarely crosses her mind. Wesley had weathered enough storms unscathed, and that gave her the wisdom and courage to expect that the children she shared with Jean-Luc would be strong enough to handle life on a starship, as well. This time around, Beverly is calmer, wiser, a result of experience that Deanna has not had the fortune of having. Furthermore, Beverly is sometimes just exhausted. She is older, tires more easily, and chooses to pick her battles carefully. She can recognize what is truly important. While Beverly would permit her children to roam the ship unescorted, Deanna does not prefer to have her children unchaperoned. Beverly recognizes that her children have been roaming the corridors of the ship before they could walk, they know it like the backs of their hands. Isabel and Jean-Paul have been well-instructed on what areas they are permitted to wander and what areas are strictly off-limits. Isabel is entirely rule-abiding, never causing any trouble at home or in school. If she is told to go to the cabin after her dance lesson ends, she would go straight to their quarters after her dance lesson without a thought otherwise. They usually do not have a problem with Jean-Paul, either. For the most part, he just wants to make his parents and teachers happy. He wants nothing more than to grow up and captain the Enterprise, the flagship of the Federation, just like his father. However, J.P also idolizes the older Billy Riker, and if Billy Riker wants to do something, J.P demands to be included. This causes consternation amongst them, forcing Jean-Luc and Beverly to remind their son that his friend sometimes gets to do some things he does not because Billy is older and more mature, and that rules do not always apply equally.

Envying the time and patience her friend has for all of the children, Beverly bobs her head wearily. “Thank you.”  
* *

Part 2

Beverly retrieves a mug of warm milk from the replicator as Isabel washes the kitchen table with a damp cloth. 

“Mom, can I rehearse my lines with you for the play?” Isabel inquires as Beverly moves to the living area where J.P is working on a small canvas painting on an easel, an over-sized plastic smock draped over him. 

“Sure, sweetie. Just let me get J.P settled. Alright, honey. Time to pack it in,” Beverly informs the small boy, crouching down to inspect the painting. 

Frowning, Jean-Paul turns to his mother with a disappointed pout. “But, I’m not done. I want to finish. I’m going to give it to Daddy when he comes home.”

Ruffling the boy’s fine light brown hair, Beverly smiles softly. “He’ll love it. You’re doing a fantastic job. But, you can pick it up tomorrow. This little artist needs his rest. Have your milk. After snack it’s time to put on your pyjamas and brush your teeth.”

Sighing dramatically, J.P sets the brush in the can of water. “That’s really messing with my muse.”

Chuckling, Beverly sets the glass of milk on the coffee table. “I think you’ve been chatting with Mr. Data. Come on, tidy up and then we’ll get ready for bed.” Beverly helps the boy remove the smock. “Wash the brush and canisters in the sink. Use the soap and get all the paint off your fingers.”

As the boy runs to the sink to clean up from his craft, Beverly moves the easel off to a corner out of the way, smiling in amusement at her son’s painting of the Enterprise flying through an asteroid belt. Only she would be able to tell that that was what the collection of dark colours on the canvas represents, because she knows her son’s mind all too well. 

“What would you like for a snack before bed?” Beverly asks the children, retracing her steps to the kitchen area where J.P is scrubbing his hands and Isabel is retrieving a drink from the replicator. 

The door chime sounds and Beverly rotates her neck. “Come in.” Padding across the room to the door, Beverly glances over her shoulder. “Continue on. I’ll get us a snack in a minute.”

The door slides open, revealing Will Riker, appearing weary and grim. 

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he greets her apologetically, stepping across the threshold.

“That’s alright,” shrugs Beverly. “Come in.”

Face tight, Will inhales sharply. “Can we talk…”

“Hi, Commander!” J.P greets Will enthusiastically, bouncing on his toes beside Beverly. 

Offering the boy a lame smile, Will looks troubled. “Hey, buddy.”

“Sure. Would you like something to drink? I was just going to fix a snack before I get the kids to bed.” Beverly steps backwards.

Shaking his head, Will follows Beverly and J.P into the living area. “No, thank you. Actually, I need to speak with you…privately.”

Appraising the uneasy look on Will’s face, Beverly bobs her head. “J.P, go with Belle and get your pyjamas on, brush your teeth and wash your face.” 

Disappointed, J.P glances up at Beverly and Will sadly. 

“Now.” Beverly fixes him with a no-nonsense look.

“What’s wrong?” Isabel inquires, running up to the adults. 

“Will and I need to talk, ship’s business. Take your brother and get ready for bed,” orders Beverly, nudging Isabel in the direction of the bedrooms. 

Watching Isabel and J.P retreat, Beverly sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry for interrupting your evening,” Will exhales audibly. 

Turning to Will, Beverly surveys him with suspicion. “What’s wrong? You’re all out of sorts.”

“Can we sit?” Will asks gently, gazing at the sofa. “I think we should sit.”

Furrowed brows, Beverly gives her head a shake. “Sure.” 

Hand on her head, Beverly lowers herself to the sofa and Will perches next to her. 

“What’s going on?” repeats Beverly, anxious from the First Officer’s demeanour tonight. 

Exhaling slowly, Will stares directly at Beverly. “Beverly, I’ve been in contact with the USS Risk and the Kin’Mon authorities. The captain’s shuttle never rendezvoused with the Risk. When he didn’t make the designated coordinates, they contacted Kin’Mon and began a preliminary search. The Risk is currently searching but have not found any trace of the shuttle between the rendezvous coordinates and Kin’Mon. Kin’Mon is assisting in any way they can, but their personnel and technology is limited. We’ve received data from both the ship and the planet and we cannot locate the shuttle.”

Brows furrowed, Beverly sighs deeply. “I don’t understand. How can the shuttle just fly off radar? Where is he?”

“We don’t know, but we’re going to find out. We’re going to find him,” Will tells her assuringly. “We’re en route to the rendezvous point. By the time we reach it the Risk will have swept the area between the rendezvous point and Kin’Mon and hopefully we’ll have some good news.” 

Bobbing her head robotically, Beverly clears her throat.

Will watches Beverly mentally registering everything he has told her. “We’ll be in frequent communication between the vessel and the planet, constantly exchanging any information we can. Hopefully we’ll have some answers soon.” 

“Something’s not right,” Beverly deduces, gazing off into the distance. “He couldn’t have gone off course. He knows that shuttle like the back of his hand.” Beverly cannot fathom what the First Officer is explaining to her. Jean-Luc had insisted on piloting the small shuttle from Kin’Mon to a pre-arranged meeting spot where he was to board the Risk which would escort him back to the Enterprise late the next night. He had concluded a peace accord on behalf of the Federation on a previously socially-divided planet, Kin’Mon, and Beverly had been anticipating his reunion after his lengthy absence. Originally, Picard had piloted the shuttle alone from the Enterprise to Kin’Mon, confessing to Beverly prior to his departure that he was looking forward to flying the small craft for the first time in a long time, and the commute would afford him a rare opportunity to not only get behind the controls again, but get a little peace and quiet before the hectic and gruelling negotiations began. In order to shorten the journey home, he was to hitch a ride with the Risk. Now, something has gone horribly astray, and she does not understand. She knows Jean-Luck is a competent helmsman and navigator, so her logical conclusion is some intervening force had caused an accident. 

“We don’t know anything,” Will advises her. “We have no reason to suspect foul play. The Kin’Mon authorities have been cooperative. The negotiations went flawlessly and Picard was honoured at the closing of the peace accord. He’s very well respected there.”

“Then what do you think happened?” Beverly presses, glaring at Will with wide eyes. 

“I don’t know,” the First Officer admits ruefully. “I won’t speculate without information. We’ll take this one step at a time and process the data as its received.”

Lowering her eyes, Beverly nods. “What can I do?”

Frowning, Will shakes his head. “Nothing. We’ll meet with the Risk tomorrow and conduct an extensive search. We’re getting there as fast as we can and with any luck we’ll have some more answers before we arrive.”

Lips tight, Beverly gives her head a shake. “Best case scenario-he’s had an accident and he’s crash-landed and most probably injured. Worst case scenario…”

“Don’t go there,” Will commands her firmly. Exhaling deeply, he reaches for her hand. “Don’t go there,” he whispers pleadingly. “We take this one step at a time. It’s your choice whether you want to tell the kids what’s happening, but I’m going to have a team dedicated to the search, and I’d like Wesley to lead it.”

Eyes dilating, Beverly is surprised. “That’s…that’s not a good…You shouldn’t have…Wesley can’t…He’s just…”

“He’s young and lacks command experience, but he’s the best officer for the task,” Will retorts to Beverly’s meek protest. “I’m confident he can do it, or I wouldn’t be staking the captain’s life on it.”

Face plagued with conflict, Beverly’s head pounds. A part of her feels as if this is a dream and she is watching herself from a bird’s eye view. Her husband is not really missing. Her interim commanding officer has not asked her twenty-five year-old son to lead the mission to search for her husband. None of this is happening. “I…”

Squeezing her hand, Will offers the most positive smile he can. “This is not what we want to deal with. We’ll bring our captain back. Beverly, I’ll bring your husband home.”

* *  
Part 3

Beverly did not initially know whether to advise her two young children that their father was missing. A part of her had wanted them to remain ignorant, sheltering them from unnecessary angst, anxiety and pain. However, her mind always returned to her best and worst case scenario. They were about to meet up with the USS Risk, and thus far the investigation into the disappearance of Picard’s shuttle had turned up negligible results. She wondered if it were better to prepare them for a terrible outcome in advance, or maintain their innocence for as long as possible. 

“I think we should tell them. We have nothing new at this point, and the investigation is likely to continue for a period. It’s better they hear it from us than peers at school or something,”Wesley argues as he and his mother ride the turbolift.

Pursing her lips, Beverly nods her understanding. “You’re probably right. I just can’t imagine…” Exhaling audibly, Beverly closes her eyes. 

Forcing a smile, Wesley reaches for his mother’s hand. “Hey. We’re going to get through this. Just have a little faith.”

Staring at her grown son in the engineering uniform with two pips on his collar, Beverly nods forcefully. Sometimes she sees so much of Jack in Wesley it awes her. 

The turbolift opens and they enter the Bridge, where Will informs them that momentarily representatives from the the Risk are going to beam over to the Enterprise where they will hold a conference with the Enterprise team assigned to the search and videoconference via subspace with representatives from Kin’Mon in order to strategize and share all the information they have collected. The acting captain asks her if she wants to partake in the conference and Beverly agrees without a thought to the contrary. 

When the team from the Risk have transported over to the Enterprise, they assemble in the observation lounge and establish a visual subspace videoconference with Kin’Mon authorities assisting in the search for the missing vessel. Will is present throughout the meeting, but asks Wesley to lead the conference as Wesley has spearheaded the investigation since Will put him in charge of the team. For the most part, Beverly remains silent and stoic, listening to the reports from each side. There are more questions than answers, with each side making as many inquiries and offering suggestions as providing concrete facts and supplying information. It appears Wesley has devised a solid action plan and put in place the next steps, but occasionally Will interjects with a question or suggestion that leads to an amendment of the team’s proposed game plan. Once new plans have been finalized and all information recorded, the conference is adjourned. The crew of the Risk had been immensely helpful, but they received new orders with an urgent mission, and the Enterprise is well-equipped to search for a lone shuttle. Riker expresses his gratitude to the team from the Risk ,and the crew in the observation lounge exchange farewells before Wesley escorts the Risk crew to the transporter room. 

 

Pensive, Beverly moves towards the door slowly, mentally reviewing what she had learned in the conference.

“You alright?” Will inquires, following her through the door. 

Rotating to face him, Beverly looks deep in thought. “We really have no idea what happened. He’s actually missing.”

Pausing, Will straightens purposefully. “We’ll find him.”

* * 

“You can’t find him?” Isabel clarifies, blue eyes dilate, full of fear and concern as she sits on the sofa between her mother and older brother. 

“We’re working on it right now,” adds Wesley comfortingly, wrapping one arm around his little sister’s shoulder. 

“What happened to the shuttle?” Jean-Paul asks in worry from his spot on Beverly’s lap. “Daddy’s a good pilot, he wouldn’t crash.”

Briefly cheered by her son’s innocence, Beverly drops a kiss his crown, closing her eyes. She wishes she could protect their innocence indefinitely, shelter them from the risk, danger, and uncertainty in the life she and her husband have chosen. She knows all too well that that is impossible. Tragically, Wesley was exposed to that reality far too young, when he was only Jean-Paul’s tender age. 

“We’re working very hard to find out what happened to the shuttle,” Will supplies evenly, struggling internally to maintain his own composure. He is trained to respond to crisis; he does not feel prepared to inform his captain’s young children that their father is missing. 

Whipping around to face her mother, Isabel’s blue eyes widen in sudden alarm. “What if he’s hurt? What if he’s dead?”

Reaching a hand to grasp her daughter’s, Beverly is about to protest when Wesley intervenes.

Shaking his head, Wesley squeezes his sister’s hand. “Belle, we can’t get too far ahead of ourselves. I know you’re worried. We’re all worried. But, we have no reason to believe he’s hurt and certainly not to think that he’s been killed. We have to use the information we have and take this one day at a time.”

Swallowing hard, Isabel glances between her mother and Will, seeking validation. 

Sighing, Will drags his hand over his face. “We wanted to let you know what was happening, and why your father wouldn’t be coming home on the other ship as planned. I promise you we’re doing everything we possibly can to find him.” His words had been for the children’s benefit, and maybe perhaps for Beverly’s sake, as well. However, Will wonders if he needs to vocalize them so he will come to believe them himself. Internally, he wonders if their efforts will be sufficient. 

Part 4

Riding the turbolift, Beverly’s mind is not present. Distracted, she makes a mental note to remind Rachel about the costumes for the children’s play rehearsal tomorrow. Rolling her eyes, Beverly recalls that she forgot to have J.P recite his spelling words that evening for his homework assignment. “Damn.” She had been attempting as much as possible to maintain routine, but some days it is difficult for her to juggle work, the kids, not to mention everything else, while a part of her mind is always preoccupied with her husband’s condition. Wesley has been an enormous help and everyone has been incredibly supportive, but as Beverly enters the Captain’s Ready Room she silently ponders how long she can maintain the facade that everything is status quo. 

Will is leaning back against the desk and steps forward as Beverly crosses the threshold, while Wesley and Deanna rise from the sofa.

Caught off guard, Beverly halts abruptly. “Deanna, what are you doing here? You should be…”

Raising a hand, Will cuts her off. “I asked her to be here.” Inhaling deeply, Will motions to the sofa. “Please sit.”

Glancing between the solemn faces of Will, Deanna and her son, Beverly shakes her head, trepidation growing within her. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

Deanna takes Beverly’s arm and gently guides her toward the sofa. 

“What happened?” demands Beverly, eyes dilated in fear. She cannot understand why they are looking at her so seriously and not offering an explanation. 

“Come on, Mom,” Wesley urges softly, taking his mother’s hand and guiding her onto the sofa. 

Wesley and Deanna resume their seats on the sofa with Beverly in between staring expectantly at Will perched in a visitor chair a couple feet in front of the sofa with his arms folded uncomfortably over his chest. 

Shaking her head, Beverly grows impatient. “Is anyone going to tell me why you called me here? Why you’ve all got that look on your faces? Is it Jean-Luc? Did you find him? Did you find the shuttle?”

Lowering his eyes, Will clears his throat. “Beverly, we’ve concluded our investigation.”

Raising a brow, Beverly is confused. “What do you mean?”

Staring directly across at her, Will detests every word that comes out of his mouth. “The investigation in to the disappearance of Picard’s shuttle has ended. In the absence of further evidence, we have to declare that he was killed in action.”

Blinking rapidly, it takes a great deal of time before Beverly mentally processes the acting captain’s words. She feels as if she is in a dream, and she shakes her head, forcing herself to rouse. “Wha…what?”

“Beverly, I am so…unbelievably sorry,” Will sighs, padding forward close to the sofa and crouching down low. He reaches for her hands, his eyes blood-shot and heavy. 

“I don’t…understand,” Beverly confesses glacially slow, glaring at Will, mind reeling. Her head is pounding, her stomach is churning. Surely this is some hallucination. 

“Mom,” Wesley begins, rotating to face her. “We did everything possible. We went through the sector with a fine-tooth comb, multiple times. Every lead we had was thoroughly explored. No theory went untested. We had the best resources, team and additional support from Starfleet.”

Gazing up at her son in desperation and bemusement, Beverly shakes her head furiously. “No, you can do more. He’s still missing.”

Shaking his head ruefully, Wesley sighs. “No.”

Bolting off of the couch, Beverly holds her head and then jumps at Will who has risen to his full stature.”You said you’d bring him home. Continue the search. Bring my husband home!”

Grabbing Beverly’s forearms, Will regretfully shakes his head. “No. Please believe me, I wish more than anything I could. We exhausted every…This is the absolute worst thing imaginable, and I cannot tell you how much I regret this.”

“No,” Beverly mutters, pacing wildly. “No, you have to keep looking. He’s out there. Bring him home.”

Deanna cautiously reaches for Beverly’s shoulder. “Beverly, he’s not coming home. Your husband is dead.”

“No!” Beverly practically screams, shoving Deanna away. “He’s…he’s not.”

Will walks behind the desk and lowers himself into the chair, gazing earnestly at Beverly. “I’m terribly sorry, Beverly. Jean-Luc Picard was killed in action. His record will reflect accordingly.”

Staring in astonishment, Beverly does not notice the arms around her, Wesley’s or Deanna’s.  
* *

Gazing absently at the ceiling in the dark bedroom, Beverly lies between her youngest son and daughter in Isabel’s bed, not even giving herself the illusion that she will succumb to sleep tonight. None of this is real, she thinks to herself. None of this feels real. Her husband is not dead. She’s not in denial, he’s just not dead. They can tell her whatever they want. She cannot believe it. She heard Will’s report. Wesley had calmly explained the entire investigation and their conclusion, their whole rationale. He had tried to reason with her, almost pleading her to understand, and to forgive them, to forgive him. Deanna had talked her through it, assured her it was normal to be in denial, her feelings were a usual part of grieving. Beverly called bull shit. Jean-Luc Picard is commanding officer of the flagship of the Federation. He would not be taken down in a lone shuttle flight. He had stood nose-to-nose with the Cardassians, the Romulans; he had been assimilated by the Borg and came back fighting. They had survived catastrophe before. Jean-Luc Picard was not killed flying his shuttle home from negotiating a peace treaty. Beverly simply could not believe it.

She had lost her husband before. It was not like this when Jack died. When Jean-Luc had delivered the tragic news, she had not felt trapped in a nightmare, in disbelief or denial. She had felt immediate pain and sorrow, grieved for her loss instantly. This time, she has to keep giving her head a shake, feeling on edge, wondering when she will awaken from the hell that is this tortuous nightmare. All she feels is doubt, uncertainty, even anger. More than anything, she just wants to wake up to reality and get back to their normal life. She misses him so terribly it hurts, and watching the fear and concern in her children’s eyes is unbearable. 

* *

 

Walking into sickbay, Deanna finds Beverly in the lab examining a test tube. “Good morning.”

Startled, Beverly straightens and offers a meek smile. “Hey. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry to interrupt. I was expecting you at eleven, and it’s not like you to miss an appointment, so I thought I’d check to see if you were working,” Deanna supplies, studying Beverly recording a note on her PADD.

Turning to Deanna, Beverly’s face registers alarm. “ Oh, Deanna. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I missed an appointment. My head is really not in the game today. Do you want to go to the exam room and I’ll be there in a minute?”

Recognizing the misunderstanding, Deanna smiles softly. “I’m sorry, Beverly. I didn’t have an appointment for a scan. You were going to meet me in my office at eleven.”

“Deanna, you’re off duty,” Beverly reminds her in exasperation. “Why would…”

“Beverly, I’m not working. I asked you to come to my office so we could talk. This is important,” counters Deanna firmly, folding her arms over her chest. At Beverly’s impatient look, Deanna raises a challenging brow. “If you have a problem with me disregarding your medical orders you’re welcomed to take it up with the captain.”

Caught off guard, a chill reverberates through Beverly’s spine as she gazes at Deanna in shock.

Realizing the meaning of her words, Deanna’s face falls. “I’m so sorry, Beverly. I meant Will. I shouldn’t have said..”

 

Exhaling deeply, Beverly forces a smile. “No reason to apologize. He is the captain.” Placing the PADD on the counter, Beverly pads forward slowly. “Alright, I won’t disregard orders. I’m all yours.”

“I’m only trying to help,” Deanna says quietly, laying a hand on Beverly’s shoulder. “I’m not trying to be pushy or get all ‘counselor’ on you. I’m just trying to be a friend.”

Smiling in self-deprecation. “Well, I appreciate the sentiment. What I want more than anything is to go back to normal. I want the captain to walk through that door and make what I perceive as an unreasonable demand and we get into a long-winded argument that in the end somehow strengthens both of us. I want the father of my children to read them a bedtime story at night and teach them horseback riding and rock climbing in the holodeck. I want to fall asleep next to my husband every night, because the idea of sleeping in our bed alone every night for the rest of my life is intolerable.” 

Face melting in empathy, Deanna envelopes Beverly in a warm embrace, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Beverly.”

“How am I supposed to tell my children that their father is never coming back?” Beverly wonders aloud, pulling away from Deanna.

“You’re not alone,” Deanna assures her. “I know right now it must feel lonely, isolating. You’re not going through this alone. You have friends here who will be here for whatever you need. We’ll always be here for you and the children.”

 

Exhaling audibly, Beverly wishes her friends could put an end to this. 

* * *

Part 5

Beverly could never have envisioned a worse nightmare. She is living the very embodiment of her worst fear. Sitting on the sofa in Deanna’s office with Jean-Paul in her lap and Isabel beside her, Beverly’s face is ashen and her hands are trembling. 

“What do you mean?” Isabel asks directly of Will sitting on the sofa opposite Isabel, Beverly and Wesley.

“We spent a very long time and did everything we possibly could to find him. We couldn’t find him. It’s our belief that he was killed on his flight to the other ship,” Will elaborates slowly, having to clear his dry throat. 

Whipping her head to face her mother, Isabel looks horrified. “That’s not true, is it, Mommy?”

Swallowing hard, it takes every ounce of strength inside Beverly not to scream and sob. “Yes…Yes, sweetie. It…it is…true.”

Big blue eyes watering, Isabel shakes her head. “No…No!” She turns to Will, blubbering. “You said you’d find him. You haven’t found him. You have to keep looking. Bring my daddy back!”

Closing his eyes, Will composes himself, inhaling deeply. “Isabel, I am so sorry. There is nothing more we can do. He’s…he’s gone.”

J.P begins to softly sob, burying his face in between Beverly’s neck and shoulder, and Beverly closes her eyes, momentarily flashing back to twenty years ago when she had Wesley in her arms and Jean-Luc relayed the tragic news of Jack’s death to the boy. 

“Belle, we’re all so sorry,” Wesley says lightly, wrapping an arm around his little sister. 

“But, you were supposed to find him,” stammers Isabel, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. “Now we won’t ever have our dad, just like Wesley didn’t have his. Why? Why couldn’t you find him? Why didn’t you do more?”

Beverly begins to protest, to both admonish her daughter for lashing out at Riker and comfort her, when Will interjects.

Guilt and grief plaguing his features, Will nods his head. “You’re right. I failed all of you. This is my fault. I can’t tell you how much I regret this, how terrible I feel. I can never make it better.”

“No,” Wesley shakes his head, looking over at Will, face anxious and tense. “This is my fault. You put me in charge of the team that…”

“Stop it, all of you!” shouts Beverly, gripping Isabel’s trembling hand. Practically smiling, Beverly shakes her head in disbelief. “This is no one’s fault. You shouldn’t blame yourselves. This was an accident. And I’d thank both of you to refrain from discussing your own feelings of negligence or incompetence in front of the children.”

Deanna glances between Will, Wesley and Beverly from her place next to Will on the sofa, overwhelmed attempting to process their onslaught of emotions. “I think Beverly’s right. Let’s just focus on what we came here to do.”

Lowering her eyes, Beverly runs her hand through Jean-Paul’s light brown hair, as Wesley and Will physically regroup and gather themselves.

“Isabel, you’re obviously very upset. Can you tell us what you’re feeling?” Deanna asks gently. 

Isabel glances up at Wesley and then her gaze turns to her mother for approval. 

“Are you angry?” Beverly asks openly, encouragingly.

Hesitant, Isabel bobs her head. 

“Why are you angry?” Deanna presses mildly. 

Averting her eyes, Isabel laces her hands together. “Daddy’s gone.”

Sharing a troubled look with Deanna, Beverly tips her daughter’s chin up to stare at her directly. “Isabel, you must understand that this was an accident. This wasn’t Commander Riker’s fault. This wasn’t your brother’s fault. This wasn’t anyone’s doing. This should never have happened. This is a tragedy of the worst kind.”

“I know,” Isabel sighs resignedly.” This is life in Starfleet. This is the life you chose.” Eyes welling with hot tears, Isabel jumps to her feet. “But, it’s not fair. I don’t want it.”

“Honey, I know…” Beverly stretches her arm to embrace Isabel but the girl has made a break for the door before Beverly can move. 

Bolting to his feet, Wesley chases after Isabel, desperate to comfort her and ease the tense situation.

“Wesley, no. It’s alright,” Beverly calls out, shaking her head as Isabel disappears into the corridor. “I’ll get her.”

“But…” Wesley protests, whipping around again to look at his mother in confusion and frustration. “She’s upset. I know what she’s going through. I can talk to her.”

“Of course you can,” agrees Beverly. “ Later. But, she doesn’t want to hear it now. She doesn’t want to hear about your father and how angry you were and how you grew up and came to respect Jean-Luc and chose a career in Starfleet. All she knows is her pain right now. Let her be hurt. Let her be angry. She needs this right now.”

Resigned and feeling helpless, Wesley glances at Deanna with doubt. 

“She probably needs time to take it all in. There will be time for you to help her heal later. The wound is still so fresh,” remarks Deanna before observing Jean-Paul soaking up their every word, wide-eyed and entirely shell-shocked in his mother’s arms. 

Rising from the sofa, Beverly shifts J.P in her arms and walks across the room to Wesley. “Why don’t you take J.P and go get something to eat? I’ll go find Belle.”

“I’ll go with you,” offers Deanna, pushing herself off of the couch slowly. 

“No, thank you,” Beverly half-smiles, shifting J.P into Wesley’s arms. “I appreciate you both being here to tell the kids. You’ve done more than enough. Right now Isabel just needs a punching bag, and I fit the bill perfectly.”

“Mom,” Wesley rolls his eyes, not impressed with her self-deprecating comment.

“She’s angry because her father was killed in action,” argues Beverly as Deanna and Will gather around them by the door. “We chose this life. In part this is my doing. She can’t control the outcome. She can’t lash out at Will or Wes. But, she can unleash the the frustrating, confusing mixture of emotions out on me. She just needs an outlet.”

Lips twisted, Deanna bobs her head. “Alright. Well, if you need anything, please don’t hesitate. Day or night, we’re both here for all of you.”

Laying a hand on Deanna’s shoulder, Will nods, appraising J.P in Wesley’s arms glancing between the adults in bemusement. Exhausted and defeated, Will can hardly fathom what he is putting the Picard family through now. How had Picard done this for Wesley when he was only Jean-Paul’s age? How did he get over the guilt he felt for Jack’s death? Jean-Luc and Wesley had developed a strong relationship after Beverly had come to serve on the Enterprise, with Wesley harbouring no ill will toward the captain for his father’s death. Would Jean-Paul grow to blame Will for not rescuing Picard? Would he be able to develop a good relationship with the boy the way Picard and Wesley had? Isabel appears to already be angry and consider him responsible for failing to find her father. Would the captain’s children continue to believe him culpable, and would it create a rift between their families? Clearing his throat, Will can hardly vocalize his words. “ Yes.”

* *

“You’d rather postpone it? How long would you like to put off this conversation?” Deanna inquires, striding slowly beside Will down the corridor with a hand on her protruding belly. 

“Indefinitely,” retorts Will only half sarcastically. 

With empathy, Deanna half-smiles. “We don’t have that option. We can’t put it off any longer.”

Will enters sickbay with Deanna close in toe. When he cannot immediately locate Beverly, he inquires of a tech of her location and is advised that she is in her office. Will and Deanna cross the emergency area to Beverly’s office and sound the chime on the door. At Beverly’s invitation, they enter where they find her at her desk reading on her computer. 

Lifting her head up to greet her visitors, Beverly smiles lightly. “Hi.”

“Good morning,” greets Will as casually as he can muster.

Rising out of her chair, Beverly crosses her arms across her chest. “I’m not sure either of you understand the implications of my order for Deanna to be off-duty, preferably on bed rest. It wasn’t merely a suggestion, it’s imperative.”

“We understand, Doctor,” counters Will, padding across the room. “Deanna’s not working.”

Raising a brow, Beverly smiles in disbelief. “Then how do I know that she’s here because you have to have a difficult conversation with me about Jean-Luc, and you wanted her present?” 

Silent, Deanna and Will exchange an uncomfortable look. 

Stepping around to the front of her desk, Beverly sighs lightly. “Look, I appreciate your friendship. I know you’re trying to help me and the kids. It means a lot to me that in a time like this I have people that truly care about us. But, please keep in mind two things. This is all very hard for me to process and I think I just need some space. Right now, I’m just trying to hold it together for the kids. Furthermore, Deanna is going through a risky pregnancy.” Taking a step toward her, Beverly grabs Deanna’s hand. “You don’t need any additional strain right now. It would make me feel better if I knew you were in your cabin taking it easy, and focusing on your kids.”

Lowering her head, Deanna exhales audibly. 

“I know you only want to help, to make it better,” Beverly says softly. “Unfortunately, no one can help, and no one can make it better. It’s still so…raw. We need…time. But, everything you’ve done is very much appreciated. You’ve been a tremendous help with the kids.”

“I’m sorry if we’ve been pushy,” Deanna says, feeling regretful that she had intruded. She had only wanted to reach out and help her friend cope with the tragedy. 

“It’s not that,” Beverly assures her. “I think I just need to find a way to deal with it all. And, I don’t want the strain on you, or Will. You both have enough to manage right now.”

“You never have to worry about burdening us,” states Will warmly. 

Nodding, Beverly runs a hand over her face tiredly. “I’m sorry. You had come here for a purpose and I completed derailed it.”

Swallowing hard, Will stares at Beverly directly. “Yes. We wanted to discuss the memorial.”

Immediately, Beverly feels light headed. The memorial. She had been dreading having to make plans to memorialize the life of Jean-Luc Picard, but in the recesses of her mind she had known that she could not avoid it. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

“I asked Deanna to work with you on the preparations. Whatever you’d like, or whatever plans he had arranged or…whatever….Whatever you’d like us to do, we’re at your mercy,” smiles Will awkwardly. 

Half-smiling, Beverly gives her head a shake. “Thank you. I…I don’t know.”

Smiling in understand, Deanna reaches for Beverly’s arm. “I’m not sure how you’d like this to go, but I’ve had a few requests from crew members who would like to pay tribute to the captain at the memorial. I’m sure you’d like to deliver the actual eulogy, but Guinan wanted to make a few remarks, and Worf wanted to incorporate a Klingon ritual, and of course Will…”

“Anyone is welcomed to speak at the service, but I can’t deliver the eulogy,” Beverly counters, shaking her head firmly. 

“Alright. Well, Will can…” Deanna begins. 

“No,” interjects Will, stepping forward and laying a hand on Beverly’s shoulder. “No. You need to do this, Beverly.”

Swallowing hard, Beverly struggles to contain her emotion. “No. I can’t.’

“You must,” Will insists. “No one can deliver a better one. I was only his first officer, a colleague. You were his best friend, his comrade, his wife, the mother of his children. You didn’t just know him as the captain of the Enterprise. You knew Jean-Luc Picard, the man. He died flying a shuttle home from a peace accord on a divided planet. He deserves the highest honours. Let’s give him the best send-off we can. Only you can do that.”

Hands trembling, Beverly bites her lip but nods her consent. 

 

 

Part 6

She had done it, but just barely. Twenty years ago, she had thought the day she had buried Jack was the hardest day of her life. A week ago, she had thought that the day Will had told her they were calling off the search because they could not find Jean-Luc’s shuttle was the worst day of her life. Today, she had eulogized the life and career of her husband. She knows without a doubt that today will be the worst day of her life. They had attempted to make it a celebration rather than a day of mourning. They had recalled fondly happy memories, his proudest accomplishments and all their time together on the Enterprise. As Beverly had stuttered through the words she had chosen to try to convey what his life had been and what their life together had meant to her, his disappearance had almost felt real for the first time. As the faces of their crew and the tiny faces of her children gazed up at her , hanging on her every word, she had known the purpose behind what she was doing. A part of her, perhaps the logical front cortex, had wanted to finally let go. Her heart had held back. 

Now, she is rooting through the desk in the Captain’s Ready Room, searching for a book that Jean-Luc had been reading with Isabel that Isabel had been crying over because she could not find it and wanted it desperately. “Damn it, Jean-Luc. Why do you have so many books?” Beverly growls, pulling several PADDS and two hard-cover paper books out of the drawers. Reading the covers, Beverly places the books on the top of the desk, intending to give them to Isabel to read later. 

With a fleeting glance into the drawer, Beverly notices a small chip with a tiny white card attached. She retrieves the chip and card and reads her name scrawled across the card in Jean-Luc’s writing. “A hologram.” Heart beating profusely against her chest, it dawns on her that the hologram is most probably a message for her intended as a final farewell should he perish. Rotating the chip in one hand, she reads her name in his perfect cursive on the note. A part of her wants to throw the chip back in the drawer and forget all about it. She cannot imagine seeing him again and what kind of emotions it might evoke. However, she cannot discard the message. She must hear his final words. They never had a chance to say goodbye. She will never get to tell him how much she loves him, how much he means to her. At least this way, he will get the opportunity to say goodbye. 

Slowly, cautiously, she inserts the chip into the computer and slips onto the chair behind the desk. Instantly, an image of Jean-Luc standing stoically in the family vineyard in France pops up and Beverly is struck a blow to her chest, utterly winded. 

“Beverly, first of all, I have to apologize,” the holographic Jean-Luc states earnestly, placing his right hand over his heart. “For this means I am gone, and I had hoped that this would never happen to you. You lost Jack in the line of duty, and I had always felt guilty for robbing you of your husband and Wesley of his father. But, you didn’t lose your capacity for love. I regret more than anything the heart ache this will cause, that the children will grow up without me. But, I hope that it will not change the warm, kind and open person you are.”

Wide-eyed, entirely absorbed, Beverly stares at the holographic image of Jean-Luc, with the urge to reach out and touch it. 

“I wish we had more time,” the holographic Jean-Luc continues. “We had so little time when we were truly together. I was foolish for not making us work much sooner, so we could have had a life together much earlier. I was scared to fall in love with you. That’s irregardless now. The careers we’ve led, our accomplishments, everything to me pales in comparison when I think of you. You were the best part of me. You made me a better person. My pride and joy is not the Enterprise, it’s Isabel and Jean-Paul. Our children are the best thing I ever did. I wanted to be a better person and leave this world a better place because of you and them.”

Lips trembling, hot tears start to pool in Beverly’s eyes.

“I know I can be quite demanding of the kids,” holographic Picard says, contrite. “You’ve reminded me on numerous occasions that they're children and not my officers. I guess I always wanted to ensure that they grew to respect authority and applied discipline. I may act like I’m in command, but the truth is that when it comes to being a father I’m scared and out of my element. I remember the day you told me you were pregnant with Isabel. I was terrified. I didn’t know how I was going to manage. But, the day she was born, the instant you put her in my arms, I fell in love. I was in trouble. She had me wrapped around her tiny little finger, and I was a goner. None of this is easy for me, because I never want to fail them, I never want to fail you. I’m sorry I won’t get to see them grow into the incredible people I’m positive they’ll become. I am confident that you will do perfectly fine without me.”

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Beverly covers her trembling lips. 

 

The holographic projection pauses briefly and Picard seems to be gathering his thoughts, straightening his posture. “Beverly, you are the strongest person I have ever met, and you are the most selfless, caring and loving mother to our two strong sons and beautiful daughter. I’m sure you’re overwhelmed. That’s okay. Remember that you have family and friends that you can lean on. You’re not alone. This is not the end. I want you to go on. Not just for the kids, not just because you don’t have any choice. Your life is not over. I want you to live. I want you to make me a promise that you won’t give up.”

Sobs beginning to rack her body, Beverly closes her eyes, remembering the same words Jean-Luc had uttered when he had relayed to her the news of Jack’s death. 

“I want you to be happy, to truly experience life. It’s the only way I’ll truly be at peace,” Jean-Luc hologram tells her softly. “I’ve never given much credence to the notion of an afterlife. One thing I’m certain of, however, is that if I’m in heaven now it isn’t a fraction as divine as the short time I’ve had the pleasure of sharing with you. You are everything to me. I love you, mi amour. Bonne voyage.”

 

As the holographic image evaporates, Beverly sobs violently, collapsing to the floor. The gravity of the situation is like a hard blow to the stomach, and Beverly is gasping for air. “Noooo!”

Within a few seconds, the door from the Bridge opens and Will bursts through, scanning the room, a guard behind him. He spots Beverly doubled over on the floor behind the desk, clutching her abdomen and crying openly. 

Will rushes over to her and kneels down, hand on her back. “Beverly, what’s wrong?”

Without even the slightest thought of decorum or professionalism or privacy, Beverly sobs without restraint, unable to stop or even speak. 

“It’s alright,” Will nods to the security officer at the door who had been standing by to call for any assistance that may be needed, particularly if Beverly had been injured.

“Aye, sir.” The security officer bobs his head and ducks out of the room, the door closing behind him. 

Running his hand down her arm, Will grimaces and taps his commbadge.“Riker to Counselor Riker.”

“Yes, Will?” Comes Deanna’s reply on the channel. 

“Come to the Ready Room immediately.” He disconnects the channel, squeezing Beverly’s hand.

“Hey, I don’t know how frequently these floors are cleaned. How about we sit up?” He suggests playfully, attempting to lighten the mood. 

Rubbing her eyes, Beverly does not even look up at Will.

“Alright. Here’s fine. Here’s good,” exhales Will audibly, feeling entirely out of his element. He pushes himself to his feet, resting his hands on his hips. “Can I get you something?” When Beverly does not respond, Will decides he will retrieve a glass of water for her, maybe she will calm down and be able to offer an explanation. As he is about to make his way to the replicator, his eye catches the chip inserted into the computer on the desk. He circles back around the desk and lowers himself into the chair.

“What is it?” Will inquires, rotating in the chair to face Beverly. 

Averting her eyes, Beverly shakes her head. 

The door to the Ready Room opens and Deanna walks through the entryway cautiously, seeking instruction. 

Will motions for her to come behind the desk and Deanna crosses the room to find Beverly sitting in a ball on the floor behind the desk with a flushed, wet face. 

Mouth agape, Deanna drops to the floor, wrapping an arm around Beverly’s back. “It’s alright. It’s okay.”

Sobbing into Deanna’s shoulder, Beverly grips her arm firmly. 

Grimacing, Deanna rubs her back, sharing a concerned look with Will. 

“I think it may have something to do with this,” Will says quietly, holding up the tiny white card with Beverly’s name he had discovered on the desk and then pointing to the holographic chip. 

Inferring the meaning, Deanna nods her understanding. “Did you watch a message from Jean-Luc?” 

Sniffling, Beverly leans back, the expression on her face telling Deanna everything she needs to know. 

“That mustn’t have been easy,” Deanna remarks, running her hand down Beverly’s arm. 

Gazing over to the window out into the infinite space, Beverly clears her dry throat. “He’s…he’s really…gone. And…and all I have…left of him is a hologram.” Bursting into tears, Beverly squeezes her eyes shut, bringing her hands up to her face.

Exhaling evenly, Deanna lifts herself to her feet. She retrieves a framed photograph from the desk and then lowers herself back to the ground beside Beverly. She pulls Beverly’s hand away from her face and looks at her empathetically. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now. I try to be as understanding as I can, but I’ve never been in your position. This is the first time you’ve realized that your husband is really gone. This is completely shattering. I know that nothing will really help. But, I think you should remember that that hologram is not the only thing you have left of him.” She hands Beverly the photograph, watching as Beverly studies the picture.

Running her fingers along the frame, Beverly gazes at the five shining faces smiling at her, content and carefree, huddled in a group sitting in the family vineyard in France only six months earlier. She had had to beg Jean-Luc to take the vacation. She had pleaded with him to take shore leave, arguing that they had never taken a family vacation. The children had never truly experienced Earth. Of course there had been brief stop overs at McKinley station for ship upgrades over the years, the occasional lay over when duty required it. They had visited Wesley at the Academy a few times when the opportunity had arisen. But, the kids had never seen the birthplace of their father, never soaked up the culture and history of their home planet. Beverly had desperately wanted to spend a few weeks, not just a day or two while they were docked at a space station, to explore some of Earth with all of the kids. Jean-Luc had grumbled about not wanting to take the time away from the ship, but Beverly had insisted it was something they had to do as a family. They made arrangements for three weeks shore leave for Jean-Luc, Beverly and Wesley, and took the two children to France. They even made time to drop into San Francisco and tour Starfleet. Jean-Luc had been absolutely overjoyed showing Jean-Paul Starfleet Command, introducing his son to Admirals he had known over the years. Wesley had taken great pride in giving the kids a tour of the Academy. Jean-Paul had emphatically declared that he intended to become captain of a starship like his father, preferably the Enterprise, and Beverly had to chuckle and bite back a retort. When Wesley inquired of Isabel whether she wanted to enrol in the Academy when she was older, Isabel had merely shrugged. She did not know whether she wanted a career in Starfleet. She just wanted to be a doctor like her mom so she could make sick and injured people feel better. Beverly had considered it the most wonderful vacation, and she had been delighted to have Jean-Luc and all three of her children together. Although he had complained about inconveniencing the crew and missing duty, Jean-Luc thoroughly enjoyed showing the children around his home world and came back to the Enterprise entirely relaxed and well rested (although he would never have admitted it). The kids had never had so much fun, and were absolutely thrilled to have their father’s undivided attention for weeks. One evening, as she and Jean-Luc were lying on a blanket savouring one of the vintage bottles from the vineyard, she had imagined that this was what their life could be if they were not in Starfleet. For a second she had contemplated raising the notion of retirement with Jean-Luc, but as she gazed up at the stars, she thought better of it. Now, reflecting on the snapshot of the fleeting moment when she thought everything was simply perfect, a tiny smile forms in the corner of her lips.

“He gave you two beautiful children, and was a father to Wesley in every way that mattered,” Deanna reminds her gently. “That’s the greatest legacy, the best thing someone can leave behind. He left a piece of him behind, and his memory will endure.”

Bobbing her head, Beverly clutches the photo to her chest. “Yes. You’re right. I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m…just a mess here. I shouldn’t be sitting here crying like an infant.”

“You need this,” Deanna tells her soothingly. “You’re finally processing it. You’ve been trying to hold it together, trying to act like everything is normal. You’re trying to be strong for the kids. You need to grieve.”

Blinking rapidly, Beverly swipes at the tear tracks along her cheeks. Deanna is probably correct. She had not been emotional during the investigation to locate the shuttle, or even after they had declared Jean-Luc killed in action. Even standing up in front of her colleagues and family, eulogizing her husband, Beverly had forced herself to contain her feelings. “I guess I…I didn’t want to admit it. I never really believed he was gone. It…it felt like a nightmare and I couldn’t wake up. I refused to accept it. I…I can’t…deny it anymore. Jean-Luc is dead.”

“Yes,” sighs Deanna. “But, you’re not alone. You’re not going through this alone.” 

“Did you know the hologram was here?” Will asks, rising from the seat. 

Glancing up at Will, Beverly shakes her head. “Uh, no.” Sniffling, a small smile forms on her lips. “ Actually, I was looking for a book for Isabel. I’m sorry I intruded. This is your space now.”

“No need to apologize,” Will shrugs. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“No,” Beverly replies quietly. 

“Why don’t we go look in your quarters?” Deanna suggests.

“I’ve already looked. But, thank you,” Beverly sighs.

“Have you looked everywhere?” Raising a brow, Deanna hints that she knows more to the story than Beverly has volunteered. “How about his desk? Your bedroom?”

At Beverly’s look of part surprise, part bemusement, Deanna smiles gently. “Wesley said you wouldn’t disturb anything after you found out the shuttle was missing. You didn’t touch any of his things, you wouldn’t sleep in your bed, you hardly even went into your bedroom unless you needed a clean change of clothes.” Deanna watches as Beverly lowers her head, contrite. “You’ve spent every night since then sleeping with the kids. Wesley thought you were waiting for the captain to walk through the door again.”

 

Choking back a sob, Beverly’s tears recommence. “I was.”

Slowly, Deanna pushes herself up. Extending a hand to Beverly, Deanna’s tone becomes more directive. “We’re going to find that book.”  
* *

Part 7

 

“I’m sure Belle will love these,” remarks Deanna cheerfully as she places the last stack of books on top of Picard’s desk. 

“Yeah,” exhales Beverly, brushing her hair out of her face. “I’m glad I found that Harry Potter novel she was looking for. Jean-Luc was always reading old British literature with her. She really loved it. I’ll keep all his collections and some day she may want to read them.”

Smiling lightly, Deanna carefully lifts a box with medallions and ribbons. “What will you do with his decorations?”

Padding over to Deanna at the desk, Beverly rests her hands on her hips, surveying the box with a bittersweet smile. While Picard had taken great pride in his career, he had not been one to count medals, boast of his accolades. “Maybe I’ll give them to Jean-Paul, display them in his room. I’m sure he’d like that.”

“That’s a great idea.” Setting the box down on the desk, Deanna turns to Beverly. “Do you have anything for Wesley?” 

“Actually, I was thinking of giving him Jean-Luc’s old phaser collection. He had a few of these antique models of some of the first hand phasers that look like they belong in a museum. Wes was always fascinated by them.” Beverly closes the drawers on the desk, relieved to have completed the clean out. 

“What’s next?” inquires Deanna, rubbing her belly in a circular pattern. 

Smiling for the first time in what feels like an eternity, Beverly pats Deanna’s free hand. “You go home and put your feet up. You need some rest. Take care of this little one.”

“I’m fine,” chuckles Deanna lightly. “I can help you…”

Raising a hand, Beverly’s lips form a half-smile. “I’m alright, really. You’ve been a tremendous help. Thank you.”

“You’re sure?” Lifting a brow, Deanna feels like for the first time since Picard’s shuttle disappeared that Beverly is being completely forthcoming with her. “Do you want me to get the kids or…”

“They’re in Wesley’s quarters. He offered to get them dinner and watch them this evening while I got things in order over here,” explains Beverly. “Go home and see your kids,” she suggests, heading for the cabin door. “Spend time with your husband.”

Taking in Beverly’s haunted smile, Deanna nods. “If you need anything don’t hesitate…”

Wrapping an arm around Deanna’s shoulder, Beverly nods. “Thank you.”

* *

 

Walking into the closet to retrieve her nightgown, Jean-Luc’s red uniform jacket hanging in the right corner catches her eye. She had been through so much today, she had not taken the time to pack up his clothes. Reaching for the jacket, Beverly imagines how empty the closet will appear without his belongings. Without thinking, she clutches the jacket to her chest and is struck with an overwhelming sense of his presence. She can almost see him standing straight, hear his unwavering tone, even smell his familiar scent. With tears streaming down her cheeks, Beverly swallows the lump in her throat and turns around and pads to her bed. She had promised herself that she was going to confront this, deal with it, not act as if it were some kind of practical joke and she was just waiting for the punch line to be delivered. She has to find a means to move on. It starts today. It starts with climbing into bed and sleeping alone. Holding the jacket and pulling the blankets up to her neck, Beverly closes her eyes. “Almost alone.”

* *

 

“It won’t be long now, only four weeks. But, if this one’s anything like Billy or Kestra we’d better be ready early.” Beverly says, discarding her tricorder as Deanna pulls herself to an upright position on the biobed. 

“I think she’s quite content right where she is,” chuckles Deanna. 

“I’m sure she is,” Beverly grins, making a note on her PADD. “Just stay off your feet. That’s not a suggestion, that’s an order.”

Rolling her eyes, Deanna swings her legs over the bed. “You’ve got an eight year-old and a five year-old. How do you suggest I stay off my feet?”

“You could always ask your mother for help. I’m sure Will would love that,” teases Beverly as she helps Deanna off the bed. 

“You’re always admonishing him for his high blood pressure,” Deanna points out with a giggle. “ Do you want to put my husband in the grave?” Instantly recognizing and regretting her words, Deanna’s face falls. “Beverly, I’m so…”

Putting a hand up, Beverly shakes it off. “Don’t. It was a joke. I could use a joke.”

Bobbing her head, Deanna frowns. “Alright.”

“I’ve got to grab Isabel and get to our rehearsal,” announces Beverly, changing the subject and removing her lab coat. “I want you to drop in same time next week for another scan. If you have any problems before then get me immediately.”

“I will,” Deanna assures her. “Thank you.”

* *

“Thank you, sweetie. I appreciate you watching J.P and getting dinner ready while I was at the play rehearsal with Belle,” Beverly says to Wesley, dropping a kiss to his crown. 

“No problem,” shrugs Wesley as Isabel hands her mother the dishes from the table. 

“Wes, can we play chess?” J.P asks sweetly, handing Wesley his empty glass of milk from dinner. 

“Uh, sure, buddy. We’ll just get cleaned up here and then we can have a game,” replies Wesley as Beverly hands Isabel a dishcloth to clean the table. 

“Go play, honey,” Beverly encourages her oldest son. “I’ll put everything away. ” 

“Why don’t you set it up and I’ll be there in a minute?” Wesley offers to J.P as Isabel wipes down the kitchen table.

J.P rushes off to find Wesley’s 3D chess set as Wesley and Beverly finish cleaning up after dinner. 

“ Are you going to the poker game tonight?” Wesley inquires casually. 

“No,” frowns Beverly, leaning back against the counter. 

“You should go,” suggests Wesley nonchalantly. “Geordi was saying he hasn’t seen you there in ages.”

Smiling in self-depreciation, Beverly almost laughs. “I’ve been a little preoccupied.”

Isabel hands Wesley the dishcloth, glancing curiously between her mother and brother. 

“Thank you, sweetie. Can you help J.P set up the game?” Ruffling Isabel’s braided red hair, Wes grins at his sister teasingly. 

Rolling her eyes but smiling, Isabel swats Wesley’s hand away from her head. “Fine.”

Resting her hand on Wesley’s shoulder, Beverly’s lips curl into a smile as Isabel goes in search of her little brother. “Thank you, honey. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Of course,” replies Wesley easily. “You really should go out tonight. If you want I can watch the kids.”

“Thank you, but I don’t need to go out.” Beverly strides over to the replicator and orders a cup of tea. “You should be the one going out. I kind of thought you might have a thing for the new primary school teacher.”

Reddening, Wes tries to contain his smile. “Ahh…I don’t…I don’t know.”

“She’s cute,” jests Beverly, retrieving her mug of tea from the replicator. 

Sighing, Wesley gives his head a shake. “Don’t change the subject. You’re going to the game tonight.”

* * *

Part 8 

“Counselor, should you not be resting? Is this not too strenuous for you in your…current state?” Data inquires, waiting for Geordi to play his hand. 

“On the contrary, Data. I find it quite relaxing taking all your money and giving you a thorough beating,” smirks Deanna. 

Raising a brow, Beverly can’t help but smile at Deanna. 

Deanna grins at Beverly. “You, Doctor, keep your mouth shut. “ Turning to Data, Deanna looks at him challenging. “And current state, Data? I’m pregnant. I’m not an invalid.”

Unable to interpret Deanna’s mood, Data turns to Riker, seeking an explanation, as Geordi and Wesley seem to disappear behind sheepish expressions. 

With an amused smile, Will shifts the cards in his hands and looks at his wife beside him. “Your move, dear.”

“I see your ten.” Deanna tosses her chips to the centre of the table.

Tossing her cards to the centre, Beverly smiles. “Well, I think I’ll quit before I’m not too far behind.”

“Oh, you didn’t even put on a show,” Geordi chuckles. 

“Well, statistically, if the Doctor had the…”Data begins, only to be met with a chorus of groans.

Chuckling, Beverly stands out of her chair. “I’ll go check on the kids.”

Rotating her head, Deanna sets her cards on the table face down. “I can go check if they…”

“That’s alright,” smiles Beverly briefly. 

Deanna rises from her seat and follows Beverly through the door to the living area of the Riker’s quarters where the children are playing.

“Is everything alright?” Appraising Beverly heading over to the girls playing with baby dolls and various accessories on the floor, Deanna scowls. Beverly does not seem interested in socializing and is evidently distracted. 

Hands on her hips, Beverly surveys the room wearily. “You guys have made quite a mess.”

“They made a mess!” Kestra accuses, pointing to the sofas where the boys have erected a large fort out of cushions and blankets. With her father’s eyes and mother’s long brunette hair, Kestra is a five year-old combination of strong will and energy.

Eight year-old Billy jumps out of a pile of cushions, dawning an old red uniform jacket far too large for his small child frame. “We had to. We’re playing Officers and Aliens.” Blue eyes dancing, standing with his legs spread apart and his hands on his hips, Billy is the spitting image of his father. 

Crawling out of the makeshift fort in a green dinosaur costume, J.P grins. “This is my home planet. I live in these caves.”

Chuckling, Deanna bends down slowly and helps J.P out of the fort, pulling the dinosaur mask off of his face. “Sweetie, did Billy make you play this green alien thing?”

Shrugging, Billy hops over to his mother. “ He had to. He was too scared to be a Cardassian.”

“William Kyle Riker!” Deanna shouts, eliciting a round of giggles from the girls and a scream from Billy, who immediately dashes to hide in the makeshift fort. 

Tossing a stern look in her son’s direction, Deanna rises and gives Beverly an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? My kids have demolished your living room. We’ll clean it up,” Beverly says, apologetic herself. 

Tossing her hands up, Deanna shakes her head. “Are you kidding? They’re just having fun. Don’t worry about it. J.P. , honey, you can take off that ridiculous costume if you don’t like it.”

Shrugging out of the green material, J.P’s lips quirk in bemusement. “How can we play Officers and Aliens. What will I be?”

Poking his head out of the fort, Billy smirks. “A Borg?”

Horrified, Deanna and Beverly reply in unison “No!”

Gritting her teeth, Deanna strides over to the sofa, flips open the blanket and pulls Billy out of the fort by his collar. “Go get a jacket for your friend. Congratulations, Jean-Paul. You’ve just been promoted to Commander.”

As Billy crosses the room, Deanna shakes her head, turning to Beverly. “I am so sorry, Beverly.”

Smiling lightly, Beverly shrugs her off as J.P comes up to her for assistance unzipping his costume. “They’re having fun.” 

Crossing her arms over her chest, Deanna frowns. “Yeah, well, I think Will needs to censor his language in front of the kids. His little cadet knows far too much about Romulans and Jem’ Hadar. No eight year-old should be able to name the ships lost at Wolf 359.”

“Yeah,” Beverly responds distractedly as J.P steps out of the costume. “Yeah, uh, Jean-Luc was like that, too. Sometimes they forget they’re just little boys. And the boys are so eager to…”

Billy comes bouncing into the room with a uniform jacket and presents it to J.P with a degree of flare. “You can be my First Officer.”

Face falling, J.P shakes his head, throwing the jacket back into Billy’s arms. “I want my daddy’s uniform.”

Deanna and Billy glance at Beverly expectantly, holding their breaths and anticipating her response.

Kneeling down beside Jean-Paul, Beverly takes his hand. “Honey, just play with the jacket Billy gave you. I packed up Daddy’s clothes.”

J.P stares at his mother in confusion. “No you didn’t. What about the one you sleep with…”

Covering her son’s mouth, Beverly tries to laugh it off. “Go play. It’s almost time to clean up because it’s close to bedtime.”

Recognizing that he will not get the uniform to play with, J.P bobs his head sombrely. 

“Come on,” Billy urges, taking his friend’s hand and leading him over to the fort that was supposed to represent a series of caves. 

Watching her son disappear into the blankets and cushions, Beverly forces back her tears.

Deanna lays a hand on her shoulder, frowning in sympathy. “I’m sorry Beverly. Billy shouldn’t have initiated the game.”

Smiling faintly, Beverly sniffles. “No. This is exactly what they need.” She turns to observe Isabel instructing Kestra how to weave a doll’s hair into a braid. “They need to just be kids.”

“What about you?” Deanna adds, searching for Beverly’s wandering gaze.

Giving her head a shake, Beverly smiles wearily. “I nearly lost it today. Lieutenant Morez, one of our volunteers in the children’s theatre group, asked if I wanted to meet her brother who’s on assignment here for a few months working on testing some experimental upgrades to the navigational systems. He’s Lieutenant Commander Frank Morez, a widower with two teenager daughters, and he likes art and is an avid swimmer. ”

Brows raised, Deanna inhales sharply. “She wanted to set you up with him, like on a date?”

Nodding rhythmically, Beverly bites her lip. “I’m not even sure I vocalized a response. I was so utterly shocked I just stood there. I couldn’t believe she could even suggest I would want to meet someone.”

Grimacing, Deanna takes Beverly’s arm. “I know. It’s unthinkable to you, and I completely understand. In her defence, though, I’m sure she didn’t intend any offence.” 

“I was extremely offended!” Beverly cries, tossing a hand up.

“I know,” sighs Deanna, enveloping Beverly in a hug. 

“He’s…he was my husband. I’m not…nor will I ever be interested in anyone else,” Beverly insists. 

“I get it,” Deanna agrees, pulling back. “But, it doesn’t mean you can’t ever do anything for yourself. Why don’t we go back to the game?”

Pursuing her lips, Beverly shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I should be getting the kids home to bed soon. It’s getting late.”

“There’s no rush,” Deanna suggests. “They’re having a good time. I can put them to bed here. You should be in there with your friends.”

Seemingly contemplating the offer, Beverly hesitates. “I don’t know…”

* *

“I’d still have to go with the engine program I used with the holographic Leah Brahms. Not just because of the characterization, but because everything flowed so smoothly. It was incredibly productive,” La Forge says, placing a chip into the pile in the centre of the table.

“What about you, Commander? What’s the best program you’ve ever experienced?” Wes asks, smiling.

Lifting a brow, Will smirks at Wesley. “I’ll keep this PG, particularly for your mother’s benefit.”

Rolling her eyes, Beverly leans back in her chair. “Please, Will. You’ve been corrupting my son’s innocence with your sordid tales for a decade now. There’s no need to refrain now.” 

“Mom!” Wesley laughs. “I’m twenty-five years-old. I’m not a kid.”

“I have done no such corrupting, Doctor,” Data insists, a bemused look on his face.

Tossing a chip into the pile, Geordi chuckles. “That’s right. I’d like to think we were a positive influence.” 

Ruffling Wesley’s hair affectionately, Beverly grins. “I guess he turned out okay.”

Rolling his eyes, Wesley swats his mother’s hand away. “Mom, stop it.”

“What was your favourite program, Will?” Geordi inquires, directing them back to the topic at hand.

“Ah!” Grinning, Will throws a couple chips to the centre. “I can say this because Deanna’s not here, and if any one of you say anything to her I’ll order double duty.”

Wesley leans in eagerly, grinning. 

“Minuet,” Will exhales, smirking. “ The Bynars created the program to distract me. She was so life-like. I almost became infatuated. She felt so real. Even…” Stealing a glance at Beverly, Riker lowers his voice an octave. “Even the captain agreed. He was captivated, as well.”

With her lips closed, Beverly half-smiles. 

“What about you?” Geordi turns to Beverly, leaning back casually. “What was your favourite?”

Contemplating the question, Beverly matches the current bid, sliding her chips to the centre of the table. “I don’t know. Jean-Luc had this private investigator program. It was quite fun.” She remembers the first time she had experienced the program and caught sight of Jean-Luc and he had seen her in period costume. The sparks between them had ignited fireworks. 

“Dixon Hill,” Data elaborated. “I recall the first time you tried that program, Doctor.”

Smiling fondly, Beverly’s attention turns to Data.

“One of the holographic characters offered you a piece of bubble gum,” Data begins.

Racking her brain, Beverly shakes her head. All she can remember is the warmth in her cheeks when Jean-Luc had smiled at her, telling her how she wore the period costume well. “I don’t remember.”

“Yes, at the station,” insists Data. “You swallowed the bubble gum.”

“I did?” Beverly furrows her brows.    
“Yes, Doctor,” Data says simply.

“Why did you swallow gum?” With amusement, Wesley laughs at his mother.

Shrugging, Beverly recalls the memory of the scene at the station. “I didn’t know what it was. It tasted awful.”

“You mean the Chief Medical Officer of the Federation’s flagship couldn’t recognize bubble gum?” Geordi laughs throwing his cards down. 

Chuckling, Beverly shakes her head. “You got me. You’ll have my resignation immediately, Captain.”

Grinning, Will ups the wager. “Not a chance. You’re not going anywhere.”

Feeling her smile radiate, Beverly realizes that she is actually enjoying herself. For the first time in ions, she is having a good time. Taken aback, Beverly’s face falls. She is having fun. She should not be out galavanting when she has two small children to care for and an important job to do. What is she doing here?

“Doctor? Call or fold?” Data prompts, appraising Beverly skeptically. 

“Mom?” Wesley surveys his mother in concern. 

“What’s wrong?” Geordi asks quietly. 

Almost shocked, Beverly brings her fingers to cover her lips.“ I can’t believe I…I shouldn’t be here,” whispers Beverly robotically. She bolts out of her seat, her eyes darting around the room.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Wesley jumps to his feet, grasping her arm.

“I’m a terrible person,” Beverly says. “I’m sitting here playing poker when I should be getting the kids to bed or working or…”

“There’s nothing wrong with…”Wes begins, trying to calm her down, grabbing her shoulders.

“Why don’t you sit down? Just take it easy,” encourages Geordi, pulling out her seat as Riker slips out the door.

“No. I need to go back to my quarters. I should be…I should be…” Beverly starts, tears welling in her eyes. 

Wesley guides her back into the chair, frowning. “Mom, it’s alright.”

Closing her eyes, Beverly attempts to contain herself. “He’s….he’s gone.” 

Walking around to Beverly’s seat, Data crouches down. “Refraining from playing poker will not bring the captain back, Doctor.”

Geordi shoots Data a disapproving look, to which Data appears surprised. 

Will reenters the room, Deanna close in toe. 

“Hey,” Deanna greets softly, studying Beverly as she pads over to Beverly’s seat at the table. 

Beverly whips around. “What are the kids doing? Are they okay?”

“They’re fast asleep,” Deanna tells her with a comforting smile, kneeling down on the floor. “They had a snack, brushed their teeth, washed their faces, read a story, and were out like a light. Don’t worry about them.”

“I should be…” Beverly starts, face flushed.

“Right here, with your friends,” finishes Deanna, taking her hands. “It’s alright, Beverly.”

Averting her eyes to the ground, Beverly is embarrassed for having caused a scene in the Riker’s quarters at their poker game.

“It’s okay to have fun,” Deanna tells her earnestly. “You shouldn’t feel guilty for enjoying yourself. You work hard in your job, you devote yourself to your kids. You should be able to enjoy the company of your friends. Your life isn’t over because your husband’s is.”

Closing her eyes, Beverly blinks back tears.

“You have no reason to feel guilty. This is exactly what you should be doing,” Deanna says as Wesley crouches down beside her.

“Yes, Doctor. We…miss your company at social functions such as these,” Data adds, looking to Geordi for confirmation that he delivered the correct sentiment with his words. 

Rolling her eyes, Beverly shakes her head. “I don’t know why you would.”

“Mom, you shouldn’t feel guilty. We want you to enjoy the things you used to do. He’d want you to be happy,” Wesley tells her.

“I didn’t know the captain as well as you or Deanna, or even Wesley,” admits Will, walking between the chairs. “But, I know he wouldn’t want to see you like this. Beverly, you weren’t just a wife. You’re not just a mother, not just a doctor. We want to see the whole you again. We want you back.”

Unable to restrain the emotion, hot tears pool in Beverly’s eyes. “But, I’m not whole. A part of me was lost with him.”

Sharing a look with Will, Deanna grimaces, at a loss for words. 

* * *

Part 9

 

“What is it?” Riker asks, standing out of his chair on the Bridge.

“A shuttle,” Worf supplies from his station.

“Course?” Riker inquires, stepping toward the operations station, his eyes on the view screen ahead. “Identification?”

Data zooms in on the image, his fingers on the panel moving rapidly. “Unknown. It appears to be drifting.”

“Shields and armament are non-functional,” Worf informs them, studying his console intently. 

“Magnify, Data. What’s it doing out there?” Riker wonders aloud, leaning over the console. 

“Sir…” Data points at the viewscreen. 

Glancing up at the distorted image of a distant shuttlecraft, Riker makes out the blurry skeleton of a familiar vessel. “Magnify!”

Riker does not need the registration number, he can identify the vessel by the red stripes even on the long range scanner. “Status?” Riker demands urgently, his amused curiosity fading instantaneously. 

Data furiously consults the console as Worf is working away and the helmsman gazes at Data, slightly anxious.

“Now, Mr. Data!” barks Riker, impatiently hovering over Data. 

Almost frowning, Data rotates his head to face Riker. “Life support is not functioning, sir. I cannot tell if there any life forms on board at this range.”

“Lay in an intercept course,” Riker orders to the helmsman. “Warp 9. Now!”

Turning to Data, Riker sighs, palming his face. “Keeping scanning. I want reports as quick as you can get them.”

“Yes, sir,” replies Data, returning his attention to the console. 

* * 

“Are you sure I’m not ready now?” Deanna sighs dramatically, swinging her legs over the biobed. “I feel more than ready.”

Chuckling, Beverly shakes her head, holding her tricorder to her chest. “I know how you feel. But, she’s not ready. She’ll let us know when she’s good and ready.”

Slipping off the bed in the exam room with Beverly’s assistance, Deanna frowns. “I just want to be done at this point. I want her in my arms. I’m tired of being pregnant.”

“I know, sweetie,” Beverly frowns in empathy, discarding her tricorder. “Just have a little patience. It won’t be long now.”

“Easy for you to say. You had good pregnancies. I’m on bed rest,” huffs Deanna.

Wrapping her arm around Deanna’s shoulder, Beverly empathizes with Deanna’s situation. “Just focus on the big picture. Soon…”

She is interrupted by the chirping of her commbadge and the sound of Riker’s breathless voice. “Dr. Picard, meet me in Transporter Room 3 immediately. Bring an aide.”

Deanna’s face falls, as her own commbadge chirps. “Deanna, I need you in Transporter Room 3 immediately.”

As Deanna lifts her hand to tap her badge in reply, Beverly is already trying to re-establish contact with Will.

“Will, what’s going?” Beverly retrieves her tricorder, sharing a glance with Deanna. 

“Now!” Barks Will, disconnecting the link without an opportunity for either Beverly or Deanna to follow up.

Frowning in disapproval, Beverly grabs a medical kit off of the counter. “I’d really rather you not be involved in whatever this is, but I’m not going to argue with your husband.”

Exhaling, Deanna bobs her head. “Let’s just go.”

 

* * *  
As Beverly, Deanna and Alyssa Ogawa enter Transporter Room 3, Beverly stops when she discovers Data and Geordi in animated conversation with the transporter operator and Riker hovering anxiously over the transporter consoles. 

Watching them enter, Riker dashes across the small room, his expression turning earnest.

“What is it?” Beverly inquires, tricorder in one hand and kit in the other. 

Running a hand through his hair, Will inhales deeply. “We’ve found the shuttle.”

It takes a second for her to process, but once she infers the meaning of Riker’s words a chill reverberates through Beverly’s body. 

“It was drifting. We’re coming into transporter range now,” Will continues, trying to hold Beverly’s stunned gaze. “Nothing is functional. There’s extensive damage. Life support is non-operational. But, someone is still alive on there, and we’re about to get them out of that wreck.”

Like a cold blast of water hitting her face, Beverly is stunned, entirely shocked. She cannot even process this, let alone reply. 

Deanna grabs her shoulder. “It’s alright. Take a breath.”

“Captain,” Geordi calls, rotating his torso to address Will. “We’re in range and we’ve got a lock.”

Will steps forward and squeezes Beverly’s hand. “You ready?”

Trembling, Beverly opens her mouth, intending to reply in the affirmative, wanting to nod. 

Blinking rapidly, Will exhales. “Doctor, if…”

“Sir, we are losing the signal,” Data calls, his eyes on the transporter console. 

“Bring him home,” Will commands, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

With a last glance at Beverly, Will turns to stride to the transporter pads to await their visitor, Data a step behind him. 

Beverly walks over to the pads, her legs unsteady, Alyssa close in toe. Deanna remains by the entrance, not wanting to crowd the area surrounding the pads. 

After a few seconds, a pale body in a dirty, thread-bare red uniform materializes on the pads, collapsed on the ground in the fetal position. 

Gasping, the sheer shock of seeing her deceased husband lying lifeless in the transporter room causes Beverly to become light headed, her vision blurry. 

Will and Data leap onto the pads, kneeling onto the floor beside the collapsed Picard. Data commences scanning Picard with his tricorder as Will glances behind him at Alyssa steadying Beverly, preventing her from falling forwards. 

“He requires resuscitation. Hurry, Doctor,” urges Data, looking behind him as Beverly and Alyssa slowly make their way to Picard. 

Appraising Beverly in concern, Will moves back to allow the doctor and nurse access to Picard. “Doctor, if you can’t do this, we can call Dr. Salar or…”

Tears pooling in her eyes and hands shaking, Beverly firmly shakes her head, kneeling down beside her husband on the transporter pad. “It’s.. it’s alright.”

Alyssa begins scanning Picard as Beverly feels for a pulse on his neck. 

Feeling the faint beating heart of her husband beneath her fingertips, Beverly closes her eyes and smiles, hot tears cascading down her cheeks. “It’s alright.”

Smiling, Alyssa opens the medical kit. 

Inhaling deeply, Beverly tries to gain composure and compartmentalize. “Tricordrazine.”

Alyssa hands her a hypospray as Data and Will shuffle over to the console area out of the way. 

Beverly administers the hypo, hands it back to Alyssa, and begins scanning with her own tricorder. “Hmmm…that’s better.”

“Can we move him to sickbay?” Will asks, not wanting to interfere with their work, but concerned for the captain’s status. 

Running her hand over Picard’s colourless head, Beverly nods.

* *  
Collapsing onto a plastic chair next to the biobed in the private room in sickbay, Beverly is so overwhelmed with emotion she does not know whether she is coming or going; if she should cry or smile or breathe a sigh of relief. Jean-Luc lies beneath the sensor cluster, and the biofunction monitor at the head of the bed assures her that he is alive and well. The biofunction monitor is the only thing right now that can convince her that this is not some dream, because she can hardly believe that her husband is alive lying before her. 

Leaning forward, Beverly traces his face with her index and middle finger, studying his translucent complexion. “I missed you.” Closing her eyes, Beverly presses her lips to his, her tear drops falling on to his face. 

Jean-Luc’s dry eyes flicker open, blinking heavily as he adjusts to the harsh lighting. “Beverly…”

Startled, Beverly jumps back, covering her lips. “Oh, Jean-Luc…”

Gaining his bearings, Jean-Luc smiles wearily. 

Crying, Beverly presses her cheek to his, her hand rubbing his arm. “It’s alright. You’re home. You’re in sickbay.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Jean-Luc says quietly. “I wouldn’t have recognized it.”

Grinning, Beverly leans back in her chair. “That’s how you greet me? That’s how you…”

Tugging at her arm, Jean Luc pulls Beverly forward, grinning wildly. “I’ve anticipated this for months. I’ve missed you every minute of every hour of every day. I love you.” Cupping her cheek with his injured hand, Jean-Luc draws her in for a long, slow kiss.

In an instant, the illusion is shattered, and there is no dream. For the first time in months, she finally feels as if she is back to reality. Smiling into his lips, Beverly closes her eyes, tears flowing uninhibited. 

“Come now,” Jean-Luc whispers hoarsely, running his thumb along her cheek to absorb the tear trails. “I didn’t come all this way for waterworks.”

“You were dead,” cries Beverly, shaking her head, leaning back to take him in thoroughly. 

Watching the multitude of emotions flicker through her blue eyes, Jean-Luc takes Beverly’s hand. “I’m truly sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Beverly practically laughs. 

Jean-Luc knows he can never undo the irrevocable damage. “How are the children?”

Lump in her throat, Beverly forms a smile. “They miss you.”

“This isn’t going to be easy,” he sighs, rubbing her hand between his fingers. 

“We’ll be alright,” replies Beverly optimistically, running a hand along the side of his face.

Beverly is anxious to discover what had happened, but she is also satisfied with the knowledge that her husband is back home in one piece, and she can reach out and feel for herself that he is fine. “Tell me what happened.”

“Is this the debriefing?” Jean-Luc teases, reaching up to run a hand through Beverly’s hair. 

Shaking her head, Beverly smiles into Jean-Luc’s lips. “No. There will be plenty of time for that later. I’m keeping Riker at bay. You’re all mine.”

Smirking, Picard laughs lightly. “I’m fine with that. Although, I would like to get to the Bridge, check the status of…”

Brow raised, Beverly’s mouth falls agape. “You’d better be joking. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Beverly,” Jean-Luc grumbles, a tiny smile tugging in the corner of his lips. 

Staring at him sternly, Beverly’s eyes dilate. “Jean-Luc, you’ve been stranded on a broken shuttle for months. You’ve got a concussion, cracked ribs and multiple fractures. You’re in no condition…”

“It’s so easy,” smirks Jean-Luc, touching her chin. 

Grinning, Beverly shakes her head. “You’ll be the death of me, Picard.”

“I thought I was the one who was dead,” Jean-Luc teases good-naturedly. 

Suddenly the bantering is not so amusing, and Beverly grimaces. “You have no idea. My whole world…”Choking back a sob, Beverly closing her eyes.

“Hey, it’s alright.” Jean-Luc holds her neck and kisses her temple. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“For months I’ve been…living my worst nightmare,” Beverly blubbers. “I didn’t believe it at first. I was in shock. I kept thinking you’d show up again. Everyone thought I was crazy.”

Jean-Luc smiles gently. “Well, we proved them wrong.”

Inhaling deeply, Beverly leans back, trying to compose herself. “Riker put Wesley in charge of the team tasked with finding your shuttle.” Swiping at her eyes, Beverly shakes her head. “They turned up dead ends. Riker called off the investigation. I couldn’t believe it. I was angry. They told me I had to accept that you were gone. They declared you killed in action.”

“Not the first time,” Picard states pointedly. 

Beverly purses her lips. “I was the only one that couldn’t move on. They wanted to have a memorial and Will asked me to give the eulogy. He thought it would bring some closure for me.”

“Did it?” Picard inquires, studying the agony in features.

Shaking her head, Beverly appears pensive. “No. I don’t think anything I could say would ever reflect how I feel. And, it still wasn’t real for me. After the memorial Isabel was freaking out because she couldn’t find this book you were reading with her, so I was searching high and low for it. Finally, I thought I’d check in the Ready Room on the off chance you had taken it there with some of your other books.”

Jean-Luc nods stoically, forecasting where the story leads from here. 

“I came across the message you left for me, “ smiles Beverly warmly. “At first, I didn’t want to see it. I thought it would be too hard to see you again. But, I regretted that I never had the chance to say a proper farewell, and I figured this was your chance to say good bye. At least one of us could have the final world. And, it was beautiful. I was very moved. For the first time, I realized you weren’t coming home.”

Swallowing hard, Jean-Luc reaches a hand across to wipe away the fresh tears streaming down her face. “Beverly, I really am sorry.”

Leaning her forehead against his, Beverly sighs. “It was so long before…I didn’t want to….I had held out the hope that you would return for so long that I kept everything the way it was when you left in our quarters. Finally, Deanna helped me sort through some of your things, pack some things away. It was the worst thing. I had to move on. I had to show the kids that we would go on and get on without you, and I was dying inside.”

“They were looking to me for guidance,” Beverly continues, her voice low and thick with emotion. “I was trying to put on a brave face, to be strong and show them that their lives would proceed as normal. But, every fiber of my being was aching in pain.” 

Inhaling sharply, Jean-Luc kisses her crown. “The pain you’ve experienced is unimaginable.”

Gliding her hand along his shoulder, Beverly lets out a deep breath. “I had a moment when….We were playing poker in Riker’s cabin and everyone was joking and in the moment I thought to myself how nice it was and that I was really having a good time. I felt so guilty for even thinking it.”

“Why?” Jean-Luc asks, appraising her expression.

“Because you were gone,” sighs Beverly heavily. “Because you were gone and I was here with a demanding job and two little kids and I had no right to be out socializing with my friends.”

“You were punishing yourself because I was dead?” Jean-Luc clarifies in disbelief.

“I was punishing myself because you were dead and I wasn’t,” Beverly states soberly.

Grimacing, Jean-Luc nods. Beverly would not permit herself to enjoy and fully experience life because Jean-Luc had not been there to do it with her. If he were not fully alive, then she would not be, either. 

“Well, it’s all over now,” declares Jean-Luc, placing a chaste kiss to her lips. 

“Tell me what happened,” Beverly urges, running a hand along his uninjured arm. 

Smiling in self-deprecation, Jean-Luc straightens. “It’s a very long story. I came into contact with a quantum filament and lost all control of the shuttle. I crashed landed on an uninhabited planet and tried to repair the vessel. In the mean time I had tried to send beacons and communicate to no avail. Eventually I got the engines back online but I knew my power would be limited. I had lost navigation, propulsion and communication before finally the life support failed. That’s when I was fortunate enough to come into the path of my mother ship, and a very attractive doctor.”

Smiling softly, Beverly traces his jaw with her fingers. “How’d you acquire your injuries?”

“The crash landing. Most of them are poorly healed and re-injured,” Picard remarks casually. 

“I could tell,” Beverly replies teasingly. “You’re in good hands now. I’ve set your fractures. You just need to stay off your feet for a couple days.”

“I’ll stay off the Bridge, but I want to see the children,” Jean-Luc insists. 

Pausing, Beverly considers his request. “Let me talk to them first, and then maybe I’ll bring them in. I need time to prepare.”

“Not here,” Picard shakes his head. “I want to go to our quarters.”

Sighing, Beverly frowns. “Honey….”

“I don’t want them to see me here,” Jean-Luc admits with a tinge of embarrassment. “It’s been months. I want to go home.”

Smiling, Beverly presses her lips to his. “Okay. Stay here and be good and I’ll see what I can do.”

 

* *  
Part 10

“Well, as I was rebuilding the engine I had a lot of time survey the tiny planet. I hope the research will be a valuable addition to the Starfleet database,” Picard jests good-naturedly. 

A few days after he had been discovered unconscious in the drifting wrecked shuttle, they had organized an informal dinner in the Captain’s mess for the senior staff. Picard had remained in their cabin throughout the last few days, and Beverly had restricted access to him to members of the crew. He was still recovering physically and psychologically, and he required time to rest and reacclimatize to life on the starship, she had insisted. She had not wanted visitors in and out of the cabin when he needed to recuperate. It had been a severe shock to the children to be reunited with their deceased father, but they are now readjusting to having him back in their lives, and his presence is more than welcomed. 

“The archaeologist in you must have been happy,” laughs Geordi.

Picard shifts Isabel in his lap. Although he is still eating his dinner at the table with their guests and it would not be considered proper etiquette for the eight year-old to be sitting in his lap, the children have been experiencing severe separation anxiety. Neither Isabel or Jean-Paul want to leave the side of the father they have so recently been reunited with. While Deanna’s delivery is imminent and she is supposed to be on bed rest, she has spent a great deal of time counselling the Picards over the last few days.  
Picard lets out a long breath. “It was…distracting. It was something to do. When the time seemed endless and all I could do was wait. I wasn’t happy, no. It was cold. I was miserable. Every day I would think, ‘Oh, right now I’d be on watch on the Bridge, or now I’d be dropping by Engineering and reviewing the status report with La Forge. I’d wonder where the Enterprise was, if everything was proceeding as normal.”

Feeling chastised, Geordi sets his fork on the table. He had not intended to offend the captain, but Picard seems off-put. 

Smiling, Jean-Luc gazes at the table. “Every night I’d wonder what the family was doing, guess what was happening on that particular evening. Was J.P progressing in mok’bara class? Was he pestering Wesley to play chess again? How was Isabel’s French coming along? Was she in dance class tonight? She’ll make a beautiful dancer, just like her mother. Would the children still ride horses and go rock climbing if I wasn’t around?”

Silent, every face around the table is plagued with sympathetic recognition.

“Every night as I closed my eyes,” Jean-Luc exhales deeply. “I’d wonder if Beverly could still feel my presence.”

A tiny tear escaping her eye, Beverly squeezes Jean-Luc’s hand on the table. 

“And I’d fall asleep, knowing that it were impossible, knowing I was completely alone.” It was the first time Jean-Luc had relayed the extent of the emotions he had experienced to anyone other than Beverly, and he was surprised he was willing to be so vulnerable in a public setting. He had not been so forthcoming even in private conversation with Deanna, but tonight he is not wearing the captain’s hat, and he can no longer maintain the facade that his adventure had been exhilarating and heroic. 

The entire room is quiet, surprised by the captain’s unorthodox display of public emotion and uncertain how to respond. 

Beverly turns in her seat, placing her napkin on the table. “It’s getting late. I’ll take the kids home and get them ready for bed.”

Isabel shakes her head, burying into Jean-Luc’s chest. “Not without Daddy.”

Standing out of her chair, Beverly does not have the energy to argue with her daughter. “Now, Isabel.”

“If you want I can take the kids back and you two can stay,” Wesley offers from his spot beside Jean-Paul who is seated next to his father. 

Wiping J.P’s face with his napkin, Beverly smiles weakly. “Thank you, honey. I think it’s time to call it a day.”

Jean-Luc shuffles Isabel out of his arms and rises from his seat. “I’m sorry to cut the evening short. It’s been a long day. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Sharing a knowing look with Deanna, Beverly takes J.P’s hand and starts for the door, Isabel behind her clutching Jean-Luc’s hand firmly. 

* *

“They’ve commandeered our bedroom,” remarks Jean-Luc, falling onto the sofa in the living area, tired and aching. 

Half-smiling, Beverly curls up next to him, tucking her feet beneath her. “I let them sleep with me. It was lonely. I liked having them there.” 

Palming his face, Jean-Luc exhales audibly. “Well, that’s understandable. But, what do we do now?”

“They don’t want to let you out of their sight,” Beverly laughs, sliding closer.

Jean-Luc furrows his brows. “I’m concerned.”

Rubbing Jean-Luc’s shoulder, Beverly nods. “Give it some time, dear. This is an adjustment for all of us. They won’t be like this for long.”

Resigned, Jean-Luc closes his eyes.

“What is it?” Beverly whispers, running her hand along his arm.

“It’s stupid,” Picard averts his eyes to the ground. “I shouldn’t have told everyone how I would imagine what was happening on the Enterprise. It was inappropriate.”

“Not at all,” Beverly tells him assuringly. “They were asking about your…experience. You were telling them how you felt.”

Half-smirking, Picard shakes his head. “That was too intimate to share with the crew.”

“They’re not just your crew. They’re your friends,” Beverly points out gently. “They understand. They care about you. When you…They were incredible. They were there for me and the kids. I couldn’t have gotten through the last few months without them.”

Reflecting on her words, Jean-Luc bobs his head. He owes them immeasurably for taking care of his family in his absence, not to mention the ship. “I guess…I guess I didn’t want everyone thinking I had performed some heroic, miraculous feat.”

“The attention is a little overwhelming?” Beverly summarizes.

“It was ingenuity and a damn lot of luck,” Jean-Luc frowns. “And it was hard. Maybe they think it was a grand adventure and I was brave and resourceful, but all I wanted was to get home. I pushed the boundaries so I could fence with Jean-Paul, so I could finish that novel I was reading with Belle, so that I could make-up for our botched anniversary celebration before I left.” 

At Beverly’s relaxed smile, Jean-Luc lays a hand across her neck and jaw. “I couldn’t bear the thought of never holding you again.”

Grinning into his lips, Beverly rubs his shoulder. “You never have to. The important thing now is that it’s all over. You’re home. We’re together.”

“Always. I love you,” Jean-Luc whispers, drawing her into a kiss. 

“I love you. Always,” Beverly responds breathlessly, closing her eyes and kissing her husband in return. After months of pain, she finally feels as if she is healing.


End file.
